The Musketeer (PG)

CROUCHING Tiger combines with
The Matrix and the classic swashbucklers
of old for The Musketeer, an ill-advised rendition of Alexandre Dumas' classic
adventure which really begs the question, why?

Set in 17th Century France, director Peter Hyams' movie attempts to put a
modern spin on the tale of The Three Musketeers by concentrating almost solely
on the escapades of misfit D'Artagnan and relegating Porthos, Aramis and Athos
to the background as drunken has-beens who hark back to the good old days
of 'one for all and all for one' without really doing much about it.

Pitted against our intrepid loner are the usual suspects - Stephen Rea's
embarrassing Cardinal Richelieu and his church cohorts - as well as Tim Roth's
detestable arch-villain, Febre, who was responsible for the murder of D'Artagnan's
mother and father years earlier.

Waiting quietly in the corner, meanwhile, is Mena Suvari's feisty chamber
maid, a loyal subject of Catherine Deneuve's Queen of France, and eventual
love interest for the clumsy hero.

So far, so routine. But The Musketeer's biggest selling point - and the hook
with which the makers were probably hoping to capture audiences - is the presence
of stunt co-ordinator Xin Xin Xiong, veteran of the aforementioned Matrix
and Crouching Tiger, to add a little Hong Kong fight choreography to the swashbuckling
sequences.

Sadly, the trick backfires, spectacularly, with most of the fight sequences
(or at least those that you can see) coming across as pale imitations of other,
far better, movies which sit uncomfortably within the confines of the genre.

Early on, we're enticed with a tavern brawl, which features D'Artagnan swashing
some buckle with five thugs while balancing on beer barrels or clinging to
the ceiling (a la Spiderman), while later
on we're expected to keep a straight face as he goads a couple of lippy guards
with a scene lifted straight out of Sergio Leone's A Fistful of Dollars (regarding
insults to a horse).

Worse still, the movie's eagerly anticipated showdown (and I say eagerly anticipated
because, by the time it arrives, you'll be itching to leave) between Febre
and D'Artagnan is a hopelessly over the top affair which features the two
protagonists exchanging swordplay while clambering between ladders (much like
the tree-top scene which climaxes Ang Lee's epic). None of it looks, or feels,
real or exciting.

And
it is Hyams who must shoulder a lot of the blame - for while the director
has been responsible for some minor classics such as Capricorn One and The
Presidio, he is also responsible for bringing us such Jean Claude Van Damme
duds as Timecop and Sudden Death.

The Musketeer falls into the latter category and merely has one yearning for
the good old days of Reed and Chamberlain. For when he is not littering proceedings
with simulated fight sequences, Hyams is boring viewers with some truly banal
dialogue and yawn-inducing patriotism which even the performers cannot be
bothered to get excited about.

Rea, in particular, looks embarrassed to be there, while Justin Chambers,
as D'Artagnan, is as wooden and bland a hero as you are likely to see all
year. In fact, most of the performers look hopelessly miscast, from Deneuve's
uninspired Queen to Suvari's pathetic beauty, Nick ('Lock, Stock') Moran's
unconvincing Aramis and, finally, former Eastenders star Bill Treacher's leacherous
Bonacieux.

Only Roth emerges with any credit, turning in a deliciously charismatic villain
who appears to be poking fun at all around him (whether it be with a cutting
remark or a stab of his sword).

Given that this is a musketeer movie, however, it borders on the criminal
to be cheering on the villain half the time; which is exactly what you will
be doing. You'd be a dumb-ass to give this slice of Dumas any time at all.